


The Past

by EriksChampion



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 16:54:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6123184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EriksChampion/pseuds/EriksChampion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-canon. On a snowy day, Seto thinks that he spots someone familiar. Implied prideshipping</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Past

**Author's Note:**

> This story is an extended version of something that I wrote in response to a fic meme on tumblr. The concept kind of stuck with me so I wanted to try giving it more room. I still have some mixed feelings about how it’s turned out lol

“I thought—”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“—that you were someone else.”

“I know.” Yuugi smiled, weight in the balls of his feet, hands curled up inside his pockets. “I get that a lot, actually.”

Seto snorted, then sighed, and Yuugi could see the cloud of breath wafting up above his head and vanishing into the fog. His shoulders slumped into his neck, the back of his head was damp and speckled with snow.

“Admittedly, it’s not every day that I get greeted like…” he rubbed his lips together. “Well—like _that_.”

“ _Shut up_.”

Yuugi winced. He was shivering in boots and mittens, arms pressed into his sides. That morning they had announced record lows. There were thin fibers of ice in the air, stinging his cheeks and making his eyes water. Large chunks of the river had frozen over completely—and suddenly, as if in shock.

And yet, Seto’s voice was the coldest thing that he had felt that day.

-xxx-

Somewhere up ahead a crossing guard had been trying to direct traffic. Sleeves and coattails swirling, silver whistle frozen, brow stern and arms locked and rigid, trying to pull the cars apart and sort them back into their separate lanes.

The light had changed three times and they still hadn’t moved forward. The wheels of the car had seemed to be sinking into the asphalt; Seto had seemed to be sinking into the back seat.

He had watched the tangle of taillights blinking beyond the windshield. “Just let me off here,” he had sighed. “I’d be faster walking.”

“Are you sure, sir?” Isono’s fingers had twisted in his collar. “It’s freezing outside.”

But Seto’s foot was already out the door, and he had slipped out into the street before Isono had had another chance to protest.

Every door in the city had been closed, every sidewalk patio buried under puddles and snow. There had been a few plates left out on the tables, pale and gazing up at the sky; a few chairs still clinging together, as if trying to continue the conversation left behind by the people who had gone inside.

There had been small, soft flickers of movement on the other side of the windowpanes—forming a kind of warm and foamy consonance that exhaled orange light out over the street. They had all adhered to one other, turned away from a heavy metal-edged jacket and turned-up collar, his shadow floating atop their faces.

Wind had blown into his pockets, down the legs of his pants. His socks had been heavy gray-blue damp. He hadn’t known that his shoes weren’t waterproof.

He had stumbled down this street before, turned this same corner over and over again and worn down its edges until it was a smooth stone circle. He had always kept low to the ground, never strayed far from an alleyway or a fire escape. Always had one hand extended, ready to trigger the alarm, to aim and fire.

-xxx-

There had been a gap in the clouds, a cold sparkle in the breeze. Briefly, there had been a break in the traffic. There had been a jolt of color in the distance—just across the street—that fanned out in a shape as familiar as his own open palm.

For a moment he had been standing at the intersection, and he could have gone in any direction.

-xxx-

“I thought—”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“—that you were someone else.”

Seto rubbed the crease between his eyebrows. He flexed his fingers. They were stiff and red and stung until he couldn’t feel them.

“I know. I get that a lot, actually.”

Seto snorted. He locked his arms across his chest until he could feel the tips of his elbows biting into his ribcage.

“Admittedly, it’s not every day that I get greeted like…well—like _that_.”

“ _Shut up_.” He bit his bottom lip and left a jagged mark across it. “You got taller.”

Seto could hear Yuugi chuckle over his shoulder. “Yeah, a little bit. You shouldn’t feel bad, really. It’s an easy mistake.”

“He’s dead.” He grimaced. That word made his throat constrict.

“I know…but that was never the whole story, was it?”

“I don’t know.”

Yuugi took a small step forward and laid his hand on Seto’s arm. Seto peered back over his shoulder. Yuugi’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes seemed to sparkle, his lips still turned up slightly at the edges—still a shade or two too pink.

Seto had never noticed that Yuugi had freckles on his nose. Or that his smile was slightly crocked. Or the fine lines that spread out from the corners of his eyes.

“Do you want to go inside? I know a great place right around here.”

Seto shook his head. “No—I want to stay out here.”

“Okay.” He paused. “The story’s not over yet

They walked along the edge of the river—watching the ice dissolve, leaving two sets of footprints in the muddy earth.


End file.
